


Yang at the Red Dragon

by Kiiratam



Series: Monsters of Mistral [8]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21544678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: Another night, another inn. Hopefully this one will be less weird than the last few Yang has stayed at...Takes place between Volumes 4 and 5. (My BMBLB fic index)
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Series: Monsters of Mistral [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546306
Comments: 13
Kudos: 61





	Yang at the Red Dragon

Yang was getting _incredibly_ tired of rain. Of sudden showers, of torrential downpours, of steady drizzles, of the looming overcast where it wasn't even raining, but it was _about_ to start. The last hour had just been a fog thick enough that she was worried she was going to crash into it. Yang was pretty sure she'd seen every variation on rain in the last couple of weeks. At least she was out of it for tonight.

  
The clerk smiled broadly at her as Yang let the front door close behind her. "Your room is all ready, miss. Got your bike all cleaned up?"

  
"Yeah. It's so much easier at a place with an actual garage, thanks." Bumblebee was all nice and clean, for as long as she could stay out of the mud. 

  
"Of course!" The clerk - his nametag said 'Gwyn' - had a really good customer service face, but also seemed to actually care behind it. "I can take your bag back to your room, if you want to get food."

  
Yang glanced over at the common room. A little village had sprung up around the waystation, and it seemed the locals treated it like a local pub. It was after sundown, but the place was still bustling. Not like Qrow's kind of bars, where hooded strangers nursed their drinks in the corners, and the local drunks tossed them back at the bar. For lack of a better word, it seemed wholesome. A few families with older kids, and lots of people in simple, working clothes. Drinking, eating, having animated, friendly conversations.

  
"Sure." Yang set her duffle bag down. "Is there a menu, or..."

  
"Oh, none of that fancy stuff. Just what's in the pot tonight." 

  
"Sounds good." Yang thought she smelled mutton and... she thought those were leeks? 

  
Gwyn came around the counter, picking up her bag. "Just sit anywhere you like." He passed her a heavy iron key. "You're in room 4, when you're ready to turn in."

  
"Okay, thanks."

  
He disappeared down the long hallway opposite the commons, and Yang looked for a place to sit. It was like the first lunch at Signal, all over again. At least at Beacon, she'd always had her team to sit with. 

  
But Signal hadn't turned out so bad. Yang had made... friends was the wrong term. Fellows, at least. People she could hang out with, explore with. Even trust her life to. Not really friends, though. Just fellow travelers. No one she'd feel too bad about leaving hanging if Ruby needed her.

  
No wonder she hadn't really kept up with them at Beacon. Ruby had needed her, RWBY had needed her, and she'd left them. But Yang knew that they'd found better friends. Who would not only let themselves care, but also open up. Share themselves.

  
Yang shook her head. Hunger was making her moody. Easy enough to fix that. 

  
She approached a table with an old man sitting alone, eating his stew. He had his coat hung on his shoulder, covering his right arm, and bushy gray hair. Looked kind of like the clerk, though everyone here had the same dark hair and lighter skin. "I'm Yang. Mind a bit of company?"

  
He indicated the seat across from him with his spoon. "If you like."

  
Yang caught the eye of the waiter - chef? standing by the big stewpot in the corner. The stewpot itself seemed to have some kind of pearlescent coating that wasn't being blackened by the fire. Very fancy looking. He seemed to pick up quickly, and started ladling stew into a bowl.

  
"Is this kind of fog normal?"

  
The old man nodded. "Late nights, it always comes up. Clear during the day, nothing to see at night, for the fog or the darkness." He took a slurp of stew. "So what brings you round these parts?"

  
Yang mentally prepared herself for everything to go wrong. She'd gotten a variety of reactions so far, none of them great. "I'm looking for someone."

  
He snorted. "Well, I'm Lludd Llaw Eraint, and I'm someone. Or did you mean someone specific?"

  
"Raven Branwen."

  
And the chatter in the common room just went on as it had, with no one seeming to take notice of Yang mentioning a notorious bandit chief. So far, much better than the last time she'd mentioned it.

  
Lludd nodded, though, the lines in his craggy face standing out. "She is one of the only someones who's a someone in these parts. The only local, or at least, local enough."

  
 _What was that supposed to mean?_ "Do you know where to find her?"

  
"Hasn't been though here lately. She moves around, but she's still south of us. Farther away from Mistral and Huntresses and Huntsmen after bounties." Lludd took another mouthful of stew, and Yang's arrived.

  
She thanked the waiter, and dug in. Mutton, leeks, root vegetables... pretty standard. Surprisingly tasty. It was easy to just make mutton taste like sheep smelled, but the chunks of meat were delicious. Hearty, without being just dull lumps of meat.

  
"Enjoying yourself?"

  
Yang nodded. "Very good."

  
"So why are you looking for one of the Branwen twins?"

  
Lludd _clearly_ knew more than he was saying. Which left Yang with the unenviable position of deciding how much of the truth to withhold. "I need her help to find someone else."

  
And Lludd just nodded. Did he know about Raven's Semblance? He'd said she'd been to this waystation, and Yang knew - mostly from the photo Qrow had shown her, and some things her dad had said on bad days - that she and Raven looked a lot alike. Uncannily, if Yang could trust her dreams. Could he see the family resemblance?

  
"Hey, Llaw Eraint-" A couple of young women had wandered up, a bit unsteady on their feet. "-you finally find that bridle we've been looking for?" The other one wasn't looking at Lludd, just staring at Yang's hair. That was pretty normal. Given the common room, it might just be because Yang was the only blonde present. She wasn't picking up any lust eyebeams, which was nice for a change.

  
Yang leaned back, content to let the interruption happen. It gave her time to think.

  
Lludd glanced over her, a quick, sweeping, piercing look, and then he turned back to the drunk woman. "No, I don't think this is a good time for your hunt, Rhi."

  
"Come onnnnnn, how often do we get chances like this?" She was also eyeing Yang's hair. 

  
_What was with these people and my hair? It 's mine, and I love it, but, in the end, it's only special to me. And my Semblance._

  
A spectacularly unhelpful corner of her mind added, _It was special to Blake, too._

  
Yang seized on the ready distraction. "What are you hunting for?"

  
The other woman said quickly, "A Grimm."

  
Rhi glared at her. "It's _not_ a Grimm. Grimm are red and white and black and yellow. This is just white. Silver, even."

  
Wilting, the other woman muttered, "It's killed enough people to be a Grimm."

  
Yang settled back in her chair, "That does sound dangerous."

  
Shaking his head, Lludd lifted a spoonful of stew. "Only to those stupid enough to pursue it."

  
"But Lludd-"

  
"Rhi." There was a core of strength in Lludd's voice that Yang recognized. It was the same voice of command that Ruby used. "This is not a discussion. Not. Now."

  
She threw up her hands, and walked away from the table. Her friend took a last look at Yang's hair, and followed her.

  
"What was that all about?

  
"Just a couple of idiots, trying to capture what should stay free."

  
_Enigmatic. Very helpful._

  
Lludd frowned at her. "You could help them, but they wouldn't know what to do with it when they caught it, and you wouldn't like the costs."

  
Yang snorted. "What, do they need my hair?"

  
"Yes."

  
 _Well, forget helping **them**._ "Do you want to explain that at all?" Yang narrowed her eyes. "Or do you just enjoy holding court in a bar and being mysterious?"

  
"It's not relevant, you wouldn't believe me if I did tell you, and, from your expression, you'd sooner lose the other arm than cut your hair. They need to weave your hair into a bridle, and that wouldn't work if it's still attached."

  
Yang was rapidly losing patience with this line of questioning. Her questions seemed to be fractal, just resulting in ever increasing numbers of questions. She dropped it.

  
The stew really was good. Before long, she was mopping up the broth with a hunk of bread.

  
Lludd was finishing his stew too. "I think we'll have snow on the ground soon. Tomorrow, or the day after."

  
"Feeling a cold snap in your bones?"

  
He chuckled. "Something like that." Pushing back his chair, Lludd stood up. "My old bones need their rest, so if you'll excuse me..." He took his coat off his arm, starting to put it on. And the gleam of metal under his coat caught Yang's eye. 

  
She sat back in her chair as he pushed his right hand through his coat sleeve. The hand that emerged looked like hers, but gleaming silver instead of black and yellow. Rigid, though, instead of the latest, articulated Atlesian tech.

  
Lludd caught the direction of her gaze. "Lost it in the war. A friend made me a replacement. Yours seems much more useful." He gestured with his hand. "I can hold things, but not my sword anymore. And they told me I'd never play the harp again."

  
Yang knew this joke, but there were proprieties to be observed. "Could you play the harp before?"

  
He laughed. "Not what anyone would call music. My cousin can - he can do anything, it seems - but I was just deprived of my sword, and what I'd won with it." Lludd gestured at Yang's new arm. "What about you? What else did you lose?"

  
 _Blake_. "Nothing I had, only what I wanted." _What I thought we both wanted. I guess I was wrong_.

"And you call me mysterious." He scoffed. "Well, you're young. You've got plenty of time to fix your mistakes. Or run away from them. Make exciting new ones. Maybe all three." Lludd pulled a tightly knit cap out of his coat pocket. "I'm off. Come back when you will, sleep well."

  
Yang didn't even know where to start with Lludd. _Can't go wrong with courtesy._ "You too."

  
The rest of the evening was quiet. Everyone else started drifting away, back home. Yang was starting to feel the day's ride after eating, so she went off to her room. Unlocked it with the absurdly old-fashioned key, and went inside. Gwyn had set her duffle bag at the foot of the bed, and laid out towels.

  
The shower was nice and hot, and Yang wrapped her hair up, and snuggled into bed. Nice and warm and almost cozy. As cozy as she could get, without being able to drift off to team RWBY's slow breathing. Without being able to make sure Ruby was safe. Without listening to Weiss' cute mutterings. Without the possibility of waking up to find Blake in need of comfort.

  
But... almost cozy still went a long way, compared to sleeping out in the rain. Yang felt herself sliding off into slumber, like she hadn't been suffering from insomnia since the fall of Beacon. She didn't fight it. Even though her nightmares might be waiting.

  
Tonight, they weren't.

* * *

  
Yang bolted up from her sleeping bag. The sunlight was warm on her face, the birds were singing, and she was in the middle of a small clearing in the woods. Bumblebee was right next to her - gleaming and pristine- and her duffle bag was on the other side.

  
_I went to sleep in a bed!_

  
She touched her hair. Dry, without the towel she'd wrapped it in. Had the whole thing been a dream?

  
Struggling out of her sleeping bag, Yang saw that she was on top of a small hill, with the country road she'd been following looping around it. She could even see a sign from here: "Just Rite - Last stop Gas, Food & Drink - 25 miles'. Maybe she could get directions there. Directions that weren't from a dream, or a hallucination, or whatever last night had been.

  
Packing everything back up, and loading it on Bumblebee, Yang looked around the hilltop. She definitely didn't remember camping here. Even the fog wouldn't have confused her that badly.

  
_Face it, this has been a weird trip._

  
Shaking her head, she mounted up. She was burning daylight.


End file.
